


Full Service Oil Change

by LaughingStones



Series: God what even 'verse [6]
Category: Motorcity
Genre: (no one is surprised), Belting, Brief Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Butt Plugs, Established Relationship, Gangbang, Hair-pulling, Held Down, Light Dom/sub, Mike likes it a little rough, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Poly Burners, Polyamory, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Sex Games, Sex on a Car, Spanking, Teasing, car maintenance, oral kink, the Burners like driving him crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: Julie pulls Mike into her room and gets out a plug a little smaller than the one she's used on him before. “I want to put this in you,” she says, “and see how long you can stand it.”*Julie starts up a game. The other Burners are happy to join in. Mike should maybe learn to think things through before he agrees to them.





	Full Service Oil Change

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Roachpatrol for the beta and Splickedylit for the encouragement!

Mike isn't really the best at thinking things through. It's gotten the Burners into trouble more than a couple times. At least this time he's the only one paying for it, he guesses.

*

When Julie catches Mike in the hallway and says she wants to try something on him, he agrees without asking any questions, and her smug look only makes him curious. She pulls him into her room and gets out a plug a little smaller than the one she's used on him before.

“I want to put this in you,” she says, “and see how long you can stand it.”

Mike swallows hard and grins, interest caught by the challenge. He wasn't planning on sex this morning, but he has absolutely no objection to the change of plans. “Sure! Go for it.”

She doesn't mess around, just drops his pants, gets him stretched and slick and gasping and slides the plug in. Mike moans and reaches for her and Julie kisses him for a while. Then she pulls away and tugs his pants back up, which is not the deal Mike was expecting.

He opens his mouth and closes it again, confused.

“Can't laze around all day, cowboy,” Julie says, grinning. “Weren't you meaning to change Mutt’s oil?”

His mouth drops open as he finally gets it. No sex, at least not yet. This is a completely different thing. “Oh my god, Jules. You meant, like, all _day?_ ”

“Not all day,” she corrects. “Just until you beg to take it out.”

Mike narrows his eyes and stands up, biting back a noise as the plug shifts a little inside him. “You don't think I can last very long.”

“I have no idea how long you'll last,” Julie says, eyes hot on his. “But you're sexy as hell when you're determined.”

Mike licks his lips and grins. She totally expects him to give up after like ten minutes. He’s gonna last a lot longer. “You got it,” he says.

*

When they get out to the garage, Julie goes over to where Chuck and Dutch are working on specialty parts as Mike heads for Mutt. He doesn't hear what Julie says, but the yelp from Chuck brings Mike's head around in time to see Dutch fumble and drop one of his tools with a clatter. Then both Chuck and Dutch are staring at Mike open-mouthed.

Oookay. He did not anticipate that she was going to let everyone else in on this. That's kind of stacking the odds, isn't it?

Well, whatever. He smiles kind of awkwardly, gives them a little wave and tries to remember what he's doing. It's not easy to focus with the steady pressure of the plug in him, the way it shifts slightly with every step, but Mike is good at doing hard stuff.

“Hey,” Chuck says breathlessly, coming up behind him. “You need some help, Mikey?”

“I'm just changing the oil,” Mike says, turning.

Chuck’s face is flushed as he licks his lips. “Right,” he says, nodding a lot. “Right, the--oh. Yeah. You don't really need me for that.”

“Not really,” Mike says, grinning at him. Chuck is really cute when he gets like this.

“Okay, right. Maybe I'll just watch,” Chuck says.

“If you want, I guess,” Mike says a bit doubtfully. He goes and turns on the car to let the oil warm up, comes back and says, “Shouldn't you be helping Dutch?”

“Ahaha, _no_ ,” Chuck says with absolute certainty. “I shouldn't. Dutch wants my mind on the job or not at all. We'll just end up yelling if I go back over there now.”

“Aw, come on, buddy, you're better at focusing than that.”

Chuck’s head tips to one side, incredulous. “With you like this? Are you kidding?”

Mike glances down involuntarily. As far as he can tell he looks neat enough, no suspicious stains anywhere, shirt tucked in and jacket straight as usual. He's still half-hard, yeah, but it doesn't show much. He looks back up and Chuck drags a hand over his face, groaning.

“Oh my god, bro, no, you look fine. Just. Really really hot. I mean,” his voice slides higher, “your cheeks are all flushed and you're walking kinda funny like someone just worked you over hard, but you're talking like nothing’s up and ahahaha, oh my god,” he finishes in a whimper.

“Oh,” Mike says. He looks around for Julie, who's leaning against Dutch’s workbench and smiling at Mike and Chuck. “Okay.” He grins defiantly at her, then back at Chuck. “Glad this is fun for more than just Jules and me.”

“Oh yeah, this is definitely fun for everybody, the whole gang,” Chuck says, and swallows hard. “God,” he adds in an undertone, “I just wanna help Julie _wreck_ you.”

A rush of heat goes through Mike and his mouth is open to say _bring it on_ when he remembers: this is a _contest_. Julie’s testing how long Mike can wait, how determined he is. If Chuck gets Mike all worked up, there's no way he'll last as long. He really wants to say yes, though…

Chuck’s hand grips his arm. “Hey, it's okay. I'm just gonna watch, okay?”

Mike blows out his breath and nods, ignoring the stupid flare of disappointment. “Sure, buddy, that's cool.”

“Cool,” Chuck says. “So, you gonna get to that oil?”

He doesn't say anything else to make things difficult, just hangs out next to Mutt while Mike takes off his jacket and pops the hood and sets up a container under the car for the oil to drain into. It'd actually be more usual if Chuck was talking, or had a screen up and was busy with his own things, only occasionally glancing over at Mike, instead of this fixed attention. Every time Mike glances over Chuck’s leaning on Mutt watching him, chewing on his lip, cheeks pink.

It makes Mike more aware of every move he makes, exactly how far he bends over when he’s under Mutt’s hood, how he's breathing and standing; keeps part of his mind focused on that little weight of the plug in him, holding him open.

When the engine’s warmed up, he turns Mutt off, patting the steering wheel in apology for not actually going anywhere. He grabs a rag and gets down on his knees to lean in under the car and unscrew the oil drain plug, hearing Chuck mutter something he doesn't quite catch.

He gets to his feet again and Chuck is suddenly right next to him. Mike blinks at him.

“You're gonna get oil on your shirt,” Chuck says. “It's already on your hands.”

Despite the rag, he's right; oil just seems to get everywhere when Mike’s doing even the simplest parts of car maintenance. He scrubs at the streaks across his fingers with the rag, but of course that only gets some of it off.

“Skin's a lot easier to get clean,” Chuck says, swallowing. “You should--we should get your shirt off so it doesn't get dirty.”

“We should, huh?” Mike says, grinning a little. Chuck is just too darn cute, especially when he's being this transparent.

“Yeah. Lemme help you with that.” Chuck steps in and pushes up Mike's t-shirt, long cool fingers stroking slowly up his ribs, rubbing over his nipples so Mike gasps and twitches. By the time Chuck actually bothers to pull the shirt over his head, Mike’s face is hot and he's breathing faster. Chuck works the shirt carefully off Mike’s arms so his hands don't touch the cloth, like it really matters that this particular shirt stay clean. He leans in to brush his lips over Mike’s before stepping away.

“There. Jacob will thank me the next time he does your laundry.”

“Hey, I do my own most of the time!” Mike protests, mostly for something to say. His skin is hot and tight all over his body and he wants Chuck’s hands back on him. He wants another kiss, a real one, not just a brief touch.

Contest, this is a contest. He can't just let Julie win like that, he's got to hold out for a while.

He takes a deep breath as Chuck puts the t-shirt safely with Mike’s folded jacket on a side bench. Focus, Mike. You can totally do this. He gets the oil cap off and starts in on changing the filter.

“You know,” Dutch says, coming over, “I could really get behind this new trend. Shirtless car maintenance. It could catch on.”

“Watching it certainly could, anyway,” Julie agrees.

When Mike looks up, Dutch is leaning on Mutt next to Chuck, and Julie’s on Mike’s other side. Oh, wow, okay. He's kind of surrounded. That's. Unexpected. And kind of distracting. They're just watching, though, not doing anything. Okay. Keep working, you can do this.

He gets the new filter in place, ducks down to check if the oil is finished draining, but it's still dripping in a rapid patter, so he leaves it a little longer.

“Can you feel it, Mike?” Julie says as he straightens up again.

He pinches his lips at her. “Feel what,” he says stubbornly.

“The plug,” she says with an amused look. “Feel it in you. The pressure of it holding you open, keeping you ready for us.”

“Ohmigod,” Chuck says faintly. Dutch blows out a rough breath and shifts his weight.

Mike closes his eyes a second, biting his lip. He's completely hard, and he wants to be touched, wants them all, but he also wants to _win_ (wants to prove himself, wants not to fail). Except he's starting to wonder if he misunderstood, if this isn't a test to see how good he is. If maybe it's just a game Julie wanted to play because it would be fun for everybody. She isn't the type to set up a test and then make it harder without warning. If it's a game, though, harder is just more fun.

So… he'll follow her lead. He trusts Julie.

“Yeah,” he says, looking at her. “I can feel it.”

She licks her lips, cheeks a little flushed. “How does it feel?”

Mike shifts his weight and everything intensifies for a moment as those muscles flex and he goes tight around the plug before relaxing again. He has to swallow. “Good. It feels good. I--I want more, I want you guys, but I can wait.”

“God, Mikey,” Chuck says on a shaky exhale.

“Good boy,” Julie says, patting him on one bare shoulder, and he ducks his head and smiles a little as a surge of warmth goes through him.

“So, you got a plan here?” Dutch asks Julie.

She shrugs. “See how long we can stretch out the foreplay before sex happens, basically.”

“I'm a fan,” Chuck says quickly.

“That's not really Mike's favorite game, though, is it?” Dutch says, half to Julie and half to Mike.

“Not the waiting part, no,” Julie says, eyes on Mike's face. “The part where he pushes himself, where we push him and he proves he can take it--you like that part a lot, don't you,” she says to Mike.

He takes a breath and it catches in his throat. “Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse. He does like it, loves proving himself, being stronger and better and enduring more than expected--so long as he doesn't have to worry about disappointing anyone. Even he's not sure what the difference is between a game to see how much he can take and a test to see how he measures up, but what's crushing failure in one is just the natural progression of the game, and so not a problem.

“So if we're pushing you by making you wait, you're okay with it?” Dutch asks. Mike nods and Dutch smiles at him. “Okay, man. You want a kiss?”

Mike nods again, eagerly, and Dutch laughs softly, stepping over to him. Mike tilts his head back and Dutch bends down to kiss him, hands sliding around Mike's waist. A moment later another pair of hands lands on Mike’s back, small and cool against his skin, and slips around his sides to his chest. Julie steps in close behind him and lays her cheek on his shoulder blade, and then her fingers find his nipples and he grunts in startlement.

“Oh my god, you guys,” Chuck says shakily. “You, ah, wow.”

Mike’s breath catches as Dutch rubs thumbs over his hipbones at the same time that Julie’s fingers tug gently. Dutch kisses him deeper and neither of them stop and Mike is moaning high in his throat before he realizes, hips stuttering forward against Dutch.

Julie pats his chest, tightens her arms in a brief hug, and steps back. Dutch pulls away a moment later, leaving Mike breathing hard and not quite steady on his feet.

“My turn now, right?” Chuck says.

“Go for it,” Dutch says huskily.

Chuck moves forward, pauses and glances around. “Texas still isn't here. No wonder it's so quiet.”

“I'll get him in a minute,” Julie says, shrugging.

“Cool,” Chuck says, stepping in against Mike. “I mean, this is good,” he says to Julie, sliding one hand up the back of Mike’s neck into his hair, “but three isn't really enough to make him feel outnumbered and overwhelmed, you know?” His hand clenches on Mike’s hair and pulls steadily until Mike’s head is bent back and he's panting. Then Chuck leans forward to suck a mark onto his neck. Mike whines.

“Buddy, I think you're-- _ah! Ohh_ \--kinda underestimating yourself,” he pants.

“Aww, thanks, Mikey,” Chuck says against damp skin, “that's sweet.” He flicks his tongue over the spot under Mike’s jaw and Mike gasps, clutching at Chuck’s shoulders. Chuck tugs on Mike’s hair in response, then lets his head up and kisses him.

By the time Chuck strokes through Mike’s hair one last time and steps back, Mike is no longer sure about this waiting thing. He kinda wants to bend over Mutt and get done right now--except the hood is up and he's in the middle of something and he really should finish it before getting distracted.

He breathes out hard, fists clenching and unclenching, staring at Mutt’s engine block. He can do this. Even if he's really hard and wants to just give in, he's not going to. He's better than that.

“You okay, buddy?” Chuck says.

“Yeah,” Mike says, almost steadily. “I'm fine.”

“Good boy,” Julie says, voice warm with approval, and Mike closes his eyes and shudders at the praise. _God_ it feels good, all sweet and hot and sharp inside him. “Keep working,” she goes on. “I'm gonna go find Texas.”

“You sure that's a good plan?” Dutch puts in. “I mean, the waiting game ain't exactly his specialty.”

“To put it nicely,” Chuck agrees. “But I bet we can keep him distracted one way or another.”

“I'm sure you can,” Julie says, and steps around Mike to kiss Chuck hard. Chuck squeaks, wraps his arms around her, and kisses back. Mike licks his lips, glances at Dutch and back, and both of them watch a little open-mouthed. Julie’s not as good at kissing as Chuck because no one is, but she's not far behind, and also hotter than anyone else. Going by the little sounds they're both making, it's pretty much an even contest. By the time they pull apart, Chuck is panting and Julie’s cheeks are dark pink.

“Get moving, cowboy,” she tells Mike, grinning. “The oil won't change itself.” She saunters out of the garage as he goes to fetch a fresh bottle of oil.

Chuck and Dutch make no move to start anything as Mike comes back with it, although Dutch mutters, “Oh my god,” when Mike has to kneel and lean under the car to get the oil drain plug screwed back in.

“I know, right?” Chuck says. “Completely unfair.”

“The heck are you guys talking about?” Mike asks, wriggling back out again.

Dutch has a hand over his eyes when Mike looks up. “Nothing, man,” he sighs.

“Don't worry about it, bro,” Chuck says. “Just, uh, keep bending over like that. Whenever necessary.”

Mike snorts. Oh, okay, they're staring at his butt. Fine. He starts pouring in the fresh oil, slow and careful, and after a few minutes of that Dutch asks Chuck a question about a specialty part and they get sidetracked discussing it.

They're not ignoring Mike exactly, but they're definitely not paying as much attention as they were, which is fine. He doesn't need the help being distracted. The situation is distracting enough.

“Hey, nerds! Hey, Tiny! What's goin’ on?”

Mike looks up to see Julie following Texas down the stairs from the diner, a slight smile on her lips. Texas looks the same as always, bouncing over to punch Dutch in the arm a little too hard.

“Dang it, Texas,” Dutch says almost by rote, and goes back to his conversation with Chuck.

“Hey, Tex,” Mike says, smiling, and goes to turn on the car.

“What's the matter, Tiny, you get too hot?” Texas says as Mike comes back and ducks under the car to make sure the oil drain plug is in firmly and not leaking.

“Chuck didn't want me getting oil on my shirt,” Mike says, straightening up again. Funny that Julie didn't mention the shirtless thing when she was explaining the game. Maybe she only mentioned the important part.

“Oh right, nice,” Texas says, absently, eyes on Mike's bare skin.

Mike turns the car off again and comes back around to check for leaks around the oil filter, but it's fine. He's got to wait for the oil to settle before he can check the level and top it off. No problem, he can stand here five minutes, he's fine.

Mike is leaning in under the hood getting the oil cap on again when a hand comes down in a firm smack on Mike's butt. He jumps and makes a really embarrassing breathy noise and Texas--of course, who else would it be--Texas’s eyes go round.

“Oh my god,” Chuck says. He and Dutch are paying attention again now. Dutch’s eyebrows are near his hairline and his lips are rolled in thoughtfully. Next to them, Julie is smirking.

“Whoa, there!” Texas says, hands coming to rest on Mike’s hips. “You okay?” God, why is he acting surprised? Does he not realize what this is doing to Mike? 

“Fine,” Mike says, breathless and trying to focus on not stepping forward into him and grinding.

“Dang, you're all worked up, huh? Well, don't worry,” Texas says, patting him on the hip, which makes Mike twitch, “Daddy Texas’ll take care of you.”

He steps away from Mike, pulls off his beloved baseball cap, and places it carefully on Chuck’s head. Chuck’s mouth curves up in that soft, startled little smile he gets when one of them does something sweet he didn't expect. (He never expects it.)

Texas grabs Mike again and leans up to kiss him. Mike melts into it, draping his arms over Texas’s shoulders so he won't get oil on anything. Texas strokes his hands up Mike's sides, runs them around to his back and down to grab his butt, one hand on either side. Mike's hips jerk forward as he moans, and Texas makes a noise in the back of his throat and kisses harder.

Mike has pretty much stopped thinking by the time Texas pulls back, and he doesn't want to let go. He hangs on, dropping kisses on Texas’s cheekbone, breathing in his ear.

“Whoa, Tiny. What the heck, you want it bad today. They been teasin’ you again?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mike says, bewildered. That's kinda the whole point, isn't it?

“Mike,” Julie says as he blinks at Texas, “weren't you doing something?”

Mike groans and steps away, trying to remember where he got to. He's so hard it's a throbbing ache, and the plug doesn't move, doesn't give him any friction or press where he needs it, and he knows getting off is going to be all the more amazing for the wait, but at the moment he doesn't care, he wants it _now_.

He's not getting it now, because his friends are jerks who like playing games and he agreed to this. He agreed because he can do it, and he's fine, anyway. He's fine. Taking a deep breath, Mike steps forward to check the oil level.

“Julie,” Dutch says, “is there a little somethin’ you forgot to tell Texas?”

“Oh geez,” she says, “did I? You know, I had the feeling something slipped my mind.”

“Tell Texas what?” Texas says. “She just said everybody was hangin’ out in the garage and Texas oughta come down.”

Oh. No wonder he was surprised by Mike being all twitchy and needy and stuff. Mike's face heats up and he focuses on pouring the oil, his back to Texas and Julie.

“Sure,” Chuck says, pushing the brim of the cap on his head up a little. “Why not. I mean, it's so easy to forget minor details like the sex game you've just instigated.”

“So everybody’s teasin’ Mike, yeah, Texas figured it out! See, Texas is a smart guy, everybody forgets that. Texas can use his big brain like a _battering ram_ and beat down whatever weird junk needs figurin’ out! _Whaaw! Ka-chaw!_ ”

“Yeah, that's… real great, Texas,” Dutch says. “I mean, also, Mike’s wearing a plug, but yeah, you got the basics right.”

“Wearin’ a… huh? Where? Texas doesn't see no-- _ohhh_ ,” Texas says, and goes quiet. Mike has just gotten the oil level to the right height and is putting the oil cap on for the last time when Texas’s hand lands on his butt and presses in, nudging the base of the plug. If he hadn't set the oil bottle down already, the resulting yelp and jerk would've spilled the last of it across Mutt’s engine block.

Gasping for breath, Mike twists around to put his back to the car, but Texas’s hand just moves with him. His dark eyes are wide and his mouth is a little open as he stares at Mike.

“Tex, come _on_ , dude,” Mike says, and okay, maybe it comes out kind of like a whine, but the important thing is, Texas takes his hand away.

For a minute, the only sound is Mike panting. Everyone's watching him. Chuck is pink-cheeked and clutching at Mutt, Dutch very intent like he's taking mental notes for a painting. Julie’s flushed and smiling, stroking a thoughtful thumb up and down her cheek, and Texas still looks dumbstruck.

“Okay,” Mike says finally. “I changed the oil. Jules?”

“Well, I mean _technically_ ,” Chuck says before she can speak, “you're not done yet, are you? You're supposed to drive around for a while and then check the oil level again, right? Don't you think he should finish the job, Julie?”

Julie grins, and Mike is filled with misgivings. “Definitely,” she says. “After all, you want to do right by Mutt, right?”

Mike can't even muster an argument, just looks pleadingly from face to face. “Guys…”

“Mike,” Dutch says quietly, “you okay, man? You need us to quit playin’, cut to the chase?”

It steadies him, being asked, reminds him there's a way out if he needs it, and his friends care enough to check on him. It's what he needs to get his feet under him again. He takes a breath, firms up his control and his resolve, and smiles crookedly.

“Nah, I'm good. So, what, you just want me to go out and drive around and come back?”

“Hmm,” Julie says. “No, I think we should all go. You boys feel like a drive?” she says, looking around at the other three.

Even Chuck nods eagerly, which is, uh, not exactly usual. Granted, Texas just looks happy about driving, but Chuck and Dutch definitely have some kind of unspoken communication going on with Julie that's making them all look... anticipatory. It's kind of unnerving.

Mike swallows. “Okay, I just gotta clean my hands off and grab my shirt and I'll be--”

“You can leave the shirt,” Julie says. “After all, there's no law against it, is there?”

All four Deluxe-born kids snicker. Texas snorts. “Naw, cuz that'd be dumb.”

Chuck laughs harder. Dutch grins at Mike and says very sincerely, “We promise not to report you for indecency, impropriety, or lewd and unbecoming behavior in public.”

“Thanks, dude,” Mike laughs, “I really appreciate it. Oh--report me to _who_ , again?”

“The _Duke_ ,” Julie gasps, and doubles over as the other three join her with whoops of laughter.

Bored of the Deluxian injokes, Texas stalks over to Chuck. “All right, little man, time to give Texas back his hat.”

Chuck straightens up, still grinning. “Right, yeah. Um. You're gonna have to… pay the hat toll.”

“The hat toll,” Texas says blankly, and then apparently notices the way Chuck’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and how he's nibbling on his lower lip, smile nervous now. “Ohhh, the _hat toll!_ Gotcha,” he says confidently. Stepping forward, he pulls Chuck’s head down and kisses him.

Mike watches Chuck’s fingers work into Texas’s hair, listens to the little noises Chuck makes and the way Texas echoes them back in his deeper voice, and turns away a little late. Right, gotta stop thinking about sex stuff for five minutes, he's got things he's supposed to be doing.

He goes to get the drained oil and stuff out of the way and clean off his hands. Then he stares at his folded shirt, conflicted. It's true that the decency laws down here are so slack compared to Deluxe that they might as well not exist, but it still feels kinda weird to think about driving around half-dressed. It's not like anyone will see him in the outskirts, though, and it'll make his friends happy. Besides, it's not like they'll be out there for long.

Mutt’s hood is shut when he gets back to the car, and Chuck, sans hat, is strapping into the passenger's seat. Mike fishes the keys out of his pocket, slides into his own seat--and bites his lip hard. Yeah, right, sitting down. He didn't forget about the plug, (how could he?) and it makes sense sitting presses it in more firmly, he just--it isn't like walking around and bending over and stuff has been _easy_ , so he didn't think there'd be a big difference. There's… a difference. He can get used to it, though. He'll be fine.

“You all right there, Mikey?” Chuck says, sounding a little too innocent.

Mike rolls his eyes at him, spinning the little chrome skull into place on the gearshift. “Fine, thanks, _Chuckles_.”

“Hang on, we're following Julie.”

Mike frowns. “I thought we were just driving around.”

“Maybe we are, but she's leading.”

Mike doesn't trust Chuck’s little smile as far as he can throw it, but Julie pulls out and he follows, Whiptail and Stronghorn right behind.

Once on the road, Mike can't help relaxing some. He may be all wound up, but driving along these swooping, soaring roads at high speed will never not be awesome. Even Chuck is shrieking less than usual today, like he's enjoying it too. Or--Mike glances over at him-- he's enjoying something, anyway. He's watching Mike a lot, only taking brief breaks to flinch and yelp at jump ramps and approaching pylons and things.

“Hey Mikey,” he says, “how good do you think your concentration is?”

“I dunno,” Mike says cautiously. “Pretty good, I guess, most of the time.”

“You think you can keep us on the road with a minor distraction or two? Cuz I'd really rather not die today.”

Mike kind of has an inkling what kind of distraction he's talking about, and he's not sure it really counts as minor, like, ever, but especially now. But he's not going to turn down a challenge. “Sure,” he says, fixing his eyes and attention on the road.

“Cool,” Chuck says, and reaches out a hand to touch Mike's bare shoulder. He just rests it there a minute, then leans over as much as he can in his safety harness and runs his fingers along Mike's collarbone. Mike swallows, but he's got this, he's fine.

Chuck slides his hand down Mike's chest and Mike firms his determination. He focuses on the dark road, hands guiding the wheel with quick, smooth movements as Chuck’s fingers circle his nearer nipple. He keeps Mutt steady even as his breath catches when Chuck touches and then rubs.

Chuck flicks on the comms with his other hand just as he pinches and tugs, and Mike's choked gasp echoes through to the other cars. In the rearview, Stronghorn veers briefly toward the edge of the road and Whiptail does a sort of judder like Dutch’s hands jerked on the wheel. Ahead, Nine Lives speeds up for a second, Julie pressing a little too hard on the gas.

“Hey guys!” Chuck says cheerfully. “I hope we're getting close, Mike's having kind of a, uh, hard time here.”

“Chuck, oh my god,” Mike says, snickering even as his face heats.

Their voices come through on top of each other, “And you've got nothing to do with that, I bet,” from Julie, and Dutch saying, sounding a little strangled, “Chuck, you couldn't wait _ten minutes?_ ” On their heels comes Texas. “Okay, Texas thinks we need to be there now. Are we there?”

“No, Texas, not yet,” Julie sighs. “But we're close.”

“Wait, close?” Mike says, catching it a little late. “Close to where--hey!”

Chuck smiles blithely, having just turned the comms off again. “Nowhere in particular,” he says, tugging at Mike’s nipple again so Mike groans, hands clamping on the wheel. “Definitely nowhere you need to worry about. Getting there's the important part anyway, right?”

“Ri-- _ngh._ Yeah, sure,” Mike manages.

The comms come on again and Julie says, “Just off this ramp you have to slow _way_ down, okay? I mean like, forty, guys, seriously. We're almost there.”

“Forty?” Mike says in dismay, following her down the ramp. “Aw, why?” He has to slow down because she is, but he doesn't have to like it.

“ _Because_ , dude,” Chuck says, giving him one last tweak before sitting up again.

Then they get off the ramp and Mike understands. “You're kidding me,” he says, slamming on the brakes so they hit the first rut going even slower. The bump still hits him like Texas’s smack on the butt, making him gasp and set his teeth.

“You have _got_ ,” he says, as Mutt thumps along the heavily rutted, pothole-laden road, “to be joking. _Nnh--_ we came out this way just so-- _unh_ \--you guys could make me drive a rough road?”

“Not _just_ ,” Julie says, and he can hear her smirking.

“I did say it was all about getting there,” Chuck says, patting him on the shoulder.

Mike shoots him a distracted glare. “ _Hh_ \--you guys are jerks.”

“Hey, not Texas!” Texas objects. “Texas didn't know anything about this!”

“In my defense,” Dutch says, breathless, “you sound amazing, man.”

“He's going to sound even better in a minute,” Julie says, and the promise in her tone makes Mike catch his breath. “Park your cars, boys. We're here.”

Mike pulls around beside her and turns off the car. He has to sit there breathing for a minute before he can pull it together to climb out. God, he's so hard everything aches. Chuck, meanwhile, practically bounces out of his seat and through the door. Mike huffs and joins him.

It feels weird to get out of Mutt half-naked and stand there in the open, even though it's clearly the middle of nowhere and nobody's around. The light is dim; there's a skinny shaft of sunlight coming down from Deluxe maybe a half-mile away, but at this distance the glow of it is diffuse, and the typical Motorcity daylight isn't brightened by any neon or streetlights out here. There's a few mostly-demolished buildings nearby, only a couple walls intact--and covered with a distinctive style of graffiti, Mike realizes on second glance.

“Nice work, dude,” Chuck says to Dutch, studying the paintings on the closer wall. “I like the cyclops.” He looks around. “Nice, um, ruined and abandoned aesthetic, too. If a little creepy.”

“Hey, I didn't make the place, I just decorated it,” Dutch says, holding up his hands.

“Hey!” Texas yells, grinning, from over by the other wall, “there's a big dragon over here, Tiny, come see! It's awesome!”

“It is awesome, Texas,” Julie agrees, “but Mike has some more important things to do right now.”

“Like what?” Mike says, glancing around again. There's nothing _here_. They obviously didn't come out here to look at Dutch’s art, and no one's making any move to get back in their cars and go home so they can have sex finally, and Mike is kinda sore and kinda achy and really really wants... something. Sex? A touch? More attention? Something more than this.

“Like come over here,” Chuck says, tugging on his wrist, and Mike follows him obediently--back to Mutt. “Sit on the hood,” Chuck tells his puzzled look.

Mike takes a breath and hops up, biting back a gasp when the plug presses in again. The metal under him is just less than uncomfortably hot to the touch as he leans back on his hands and glances around at the others, who are coming over. They move in close, surrounding him, and his shiver has nothing to do with moving air on bare skin.

“Okay, guys. Now what?”

“Now--” Julie and Dutch say together, and as they cut off short, glancing at each other, Chuck speaks up.

“Now we all get to fuck you over the hood of your car.”

Mike's whole body flushes hot and for a moment he can't catch his breath. Then it shudders out of him and he manages words. “All the way out _here?_ You guys could've done that back in the garage!”

Chuck pouts at him.

“We could've,” Julie agrees, “but it's more fun this way.”

“No risk of Jacob,” Dutch says, “plus it's way more interesting than stayin’ at home. More exciting, don't you think?”

“Sex is always interesting!” Mike protests. “You guys seriously didn't have to go to all this trouble.”

“It wasn't much trouble,” Julie says, looking amused. She takes a small satchel off her shoulder and puts it down on Mutt.

Chuck nibbles his lip. “Bro, is there a problem with this?”

Mike glances past his friends at all the empty, deserted space around them. There's no one nearby, but it's still outside. You're not supposed to have sex outside, it's public. But it's not public if there's no one here, is it?

“I dunno,” he admits, “it just feels weird.”

Dutch chuckles. “Man, it's so cute when you get all straight-edge like this.”

“And kinda funny,” Chuck says, grinning, “considering that this was your idea in the first place.”

“Wait, what?” Mike says.

“Remember, Mikey? It was just a little while after we got together, before anyone else got in on it.” Chuck leans one hip against the front of Mutt and smiles crookedly. “The terms were that you be, y’know, ready, before we leave, that we drive out to some quiet spot without explaining why, and then sex.”

Staring, Mike takes a second to respond. He vaguely remembers saying something like that, (a long time back, geez), but he had no idea Chuck was going to take sex-drunk rambling as a serious suggestion. Also, it was supposed to be _his_ idea, and him not telling _Chuck_ what they were doing, not the other way around. “Sex _in the car_ , wasn't it?”

“Yeah, well, we wouldn't all fit,” Chuck points out.

“Guys,” Texas says, shifting his weight, “we just gonna talk about it all day or what? Cuz Texas is ready for some _action!_ ”

“Texas can be patient for another minute,” Dutch says, pursing his lips at Mike. “You gotta be straight with us, Mike--you actually got an issue you're not tellin’ us here, or are you just off balance cuz we caught you by surprise?”

Mike blinks at him a minute, then breaks into a sheepish grin. “That one, I guess.”

“All right then,” Julie says, “in that case you can shut up now.” She grins. “Or stop arguing, anyway. We want to see just how loud you can get, so don't be that quiet.”

“Yeah,” Chuck says. “We wanna hear you, but--you're not in control, bro. We are.” Hands on the hood, he leans forward closer to Mike, voice low and intimate in the circle of Burners. “You don't call the shots. Tell us if you need something, but besides that, we're just going to play with you however we like. Okay?”

Mike has to close his eyes and breathe for a second before he can speak. “Okay,” he says hoarsely.

“Great!” Dutch says, grinning. “Let's get you naked.”

Mike lets out a startled, laughing yelp as everyone goes for him at once. Julie and Texas grab a boot each, Dutch gets Mike's pants open, and Chuck pushes Mike down on his back and helps Dutch get his pants and briefs off. He's naked in seconds, except for the plug. That probably doesn't count as clothing, actually, especially since it makes him feel more naked than he'd be without it.

Everyone takes a second to look him over, sprawling over the warm, smooth metal in just his skin. Their gazes slide across his body as his face heats and he tries not to shift too obviously. _God_ he's hard.

Julie reaches between his legs and taps the base of the plug thoughtfully so Mike twitches. “What do you think, boys? Should we leave this in a while longer, or take it out?”

Leaning up on his elbows, Mike looks around pleadingly, since he's not supposed to speak up unless he has to. He can stand the plug a while longer, but _geez_ , he really doesn't want to.

“Get it out,” Texas says impatiently, “so Texas can get in!”

“Oh, who says you get first go?” Dutch counters.

“I cede,” Chuck says with a shrug. “I want his mouth, and not yet.”

“Oh my god, you guys,” Mike half-groans. Maybe it shouldn't be hot, having them discuss him with no concern for his opinions, like he's just a toy himself, but it really is. Of course, he also _has_ no opinion, he just wants someone to _do_ something.

“Out it is,” Julie says. She smiles slowly at Mike, whose eyes widen. He knows that predatory look. “At least, if Mike asks nicely enough. So, what do you say?”

He has to swallow. “Please,” he says steadily. “Please take it out.”

She purses her lips, considering, so he keeps going.

“Please, I want you guys so bad, I--I'll do anything, you can do whatever you want, just, god…”

Her eyes flare. “What do you want us to do?”

He blinks, shakes his head. “Doesn't matter, I'm not in charge.”

“That's true,” she says with an approving smile. “But since I asked, you can answer the question.”

His breath catches, shudders as he drags it in. “I want you to take me,” he says, voice hoarse, “until you're all satisfied and I'll feel it for a week.”

“Holy fuck,” Chuck says in a strangled tone, as Dutch lets out a shaky sort of sigh. Julie’s eyes go heavy-lidded and her tongue flicks across her lower lip.

Texas shifts his weight, clenching and unclenching his fists. “So yeah we gotta get started on that like right now, let's go!”

Julie’s smile quirks at one edge. “Well, you did ask pretty nicely,” she tells Mike. “You ready?”

“God, yes, please.”

“Chuck, how about a coin flip for Texas and Dutch?” She pulls on the base of the plug, working it out of Mike, and he bites his lip and digs his fingers into Mutt’s hood. When it comes free, his head drops back against the car with a thud. He _wants_.

“ _Texaaas!_ ” Texas yells triumphantly, and Chuck shrugs apologetically at Dutch as the screen with the digital coin flip flickers out.

“The stuff’s in the bag,” Julie says to Texas, stripping off her vest and shirt, and there's a sort of hitch in momentum as all the boys lose focus for a moment. Julie smirks a little and undoes her bra, shrugs it off.

Dutch clears his throat and politely puts out a hand for her clothes, which she gives him with a nod of thanks. He puts them on Mutt’s roof--oh, with Mike’s clothes, is _that_ where his pants went.

Texas doesn't bother to get naked, just unzips his jumpsuit, tugs it down to his thighs and strips off his tank and hat before climbing up on Mutt next to where Mike is perched and kissing him. Then Julie’s there behind Mike, smiling and leaning in to kiss Texas over his shoulder. They're both so hot, god.

“ _Condom_ , Texas,” Julie says, pulling back, and Texas huffs and goes scrabbling through the satchel while she kisses Mike. She’s still wearing her pants and boots. Mike wonders if she'll get naked.

A minute later Texas smacks Mike on the thigh. “‘Kay, Tiny, get on your knees!”

Mike stares at him for a second, open-mouthed, then licks his lips and obeys, going to hands and knees. Texas grabs him by the hips and pushes in, thick and aching-good, and Mike makes a hoarse whining noise.

“That's it, Mike,” Julie says, shifting over next to him. “Let us hear you.”

“God,” says Chuck breathlessly from nearby, “he's gotten so much better than he was. Used to be he didn't make any noise at all. Now he sounds so fucking sexy-- _mmh_ , Dutch, ah--”

Mike kind of wants to complain about the swearing, but Texas is moving now, slamming into him, and he's pretty occupied. He can't even pull it together to glance over to see what Dutch is doing that's making Chuck sound like that, all he can do is pant and push back against Texas, grateful and wanting more.

“Come on, cowboy, don't quiet down on us,” Julie says, and she reaches under him to roll his nipples between her fingers.

Mike catches his breath and moans, shaky and uncontrolled. Off to the side, Chuck echoes him, higher-pitched. “God, Mikey…”

“Yeah, that's better,” Julie says, patting Mike’s shoulder.

Ever since he was a new cadet it's been second nature to stay quiet when he's trying to get off, but Chuck’s been working to break him of the habit for most of a year, and since the others joined in months ago the habit’s barely hanging on anymore. Mike focuses on breathing deeply and lets himself make whatever sounds want to come out. It helps that Texas’s fingers are digging in bruisingly hard on his hips, dragging him back into each thrust like he might get away otherwise, like he'd ever want to fight this. Under the onslaught, little gasping cries and pleading noises come spilling out of him all by themselves.

“Oh my god,” Dutch mutters, and then there are more hands on him, Chuck and Dutch trailing fingers down his spine, across his chest, joining Julie in playing with his nipples. Mike whines and writhes between the four of them, overwhelmed and half out of his mind with how good it is, how much he loves them all.

Chuck steps in front of him, shirtless now, and strokes thumbs over his cheekbones, along his jaw, runs one over his lips so he gasps. “C’mere,” Chuck says, and leans down to kiss him.

Mike thinks he can't be much of a kisser right now, but Chuck doesn't seem to mind. He just kisses Mike gently and persistently until Mike has to break away, gasping for breath.

Chuck glances at Julie, looking a little uncertain. “Hey,” he says, “you wanna, uh, start, y’know, warming up?”

Julie laughs. “You want to help with that?” she offers, and Chuck nods eagerly. “Good. Mike, you want to make me feel good?”

“Always,” he gasps, and she smiles at him, stroking his hair.

“Yeah. You're so good for us,” she says, and he groans breathlessly. Then she threads her fingers into his hair and tugs, pulling his head around as he pants, wide-eyed. “Suck on this,” she says, and pushes one small breast at him.

Sucking marks onto her skin and rolling his tongue around her nipple doesn't take nearly as much concentration as kissing, so he manages fine. She and Chuck are kissing, running hands down each other's chests, Chuck stroking the nipple Mike's not attending to. Julie hums softly every time someone does something particularly good, and Chuck is clearly trying to restrain himself, but a stream of gasps and muffled whimpers and cut off moans still makes it out of him.

The sounds they're both making are amazing, and Mike is getting closer, and Texas is still going, so Mike might actually get off right away this time. He hopes so; it's not like he has to worry they'll stop if he does, and he really wants to come.

Texas’s grip on Mike tightens until it hurts, and his rhythm falters as he pounds into Mike harder, then groans and goes shuddering-still. Then he slumps onto Mike's back, panting. Mike can't for the life of him help whining in complaint, and not at the extra weight.

Julie pulls away from Chuck’s mouth laughing. “Aw, poor Mike, did he leave you hanging?”

“Texas can take care of him,” Texas mumbles against Mike's shoulder blade. “Jus’ gimme a sec.”

“Oh, I don't think you need to worry about it,” Julie says. “He's got plenty of time left before we're done with him.”

Mike drops his head onto her thigh and groans into the denim.

Chuck laughs a little and runs his fingers through Mike's hair. “You'll be okay, Mikey. You can hang on a while longer for us, can't you?”

Mike takes a breath and lifts his head again. “Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “I got it.”

“Yeah, you do,” Chuck murmurs, rubbing at his scalp so Mike sighs and leans his head against Chuck’s hand. “You've got this, because you're good, you do such a good job for us, buddy.”

Mike’s eyes close as a wave of heat and comfort goes through him. He loves Chuck so much right now it hurts. He loves them all, god, he's so lucky.

Texas peels himself off Mike’s back, pulls out carefully and smacks Mike on the hip. Mike jerks. “Heck yeah,” Texas announces, “Tiny’s awesome!”

“Yeah,” Dutch says, stroking a hand down Mike’s back. “You're doin’ great. We'll take care of you, don't worry, man.”

Julie slides a fingertip along Mike's lips and he moans softly. “Of course we will,” she says, and leans down to Mike’s ear. “After all,” she breathes, “you have to take good care of your toys, right?”

Mike shudders and moans louder. “God,” he says. “Please. Jules--guys, I--please?”

“Dutch,” Chuck says in a voice that cracks a little, “I think you're up, dude.”

“You're dang right I'm _up_ ,” Dutch mutters, moving around the car, and everyone pauses what they're doing to snicker for a minute. Even Mike manages a breathless laugh before Chuck and Julie lean in to suck marks onto either side of his neck, and then he's distracted again.

“Sorry, guys,” Dutch says after a minute, “I'm gonna need him farther back.”

Chuck and Julie pull away and Dutch’s hands are on Mike's hips, tugging him backwards. Mike shuffles back willingly enough until he runs out of car, then hesitates.

“Come on, feet on the ground,” Dutch says. “I wanna try _over_ the hood, not on it.”

Mike groans shaky and low and scrambles down, then takes a breath and bends over, laying his chest against Mutt’s hood. Dutch’s hands are on Mike’s butt, spreading him open and just holding him there until he squirms and whimpers.

“Shh, I gotcha,” Dutch says, and nudges forward, slick and good, pressure stretching him open again and--stopping? Moving again--aw, not _fair_. Dutch is going to drive him crazy before he even gets in all the way, he's going so dang _slow_. Mike deals with it for a few more eternal seconds, then growls and tries to buck back against Dutch.

“Uh-uh,” Dutch says firmly, one hand catching his hip, one pressed between his shoulder blades, pinning him against Mutt. “You cut that out.” The hand on Mike’s hip lifts and slaps down hard where his butt joins his thigh, stinging. Mike gasps and jerks and Dutch tsks at him. “Hold still and take it, babe.”

Mike groans and drops his forehead against the hood, fingers twitching as Dutch resumes pushing into him at a glacial pace.

“Nice,” Texas says from the other side of the car, and Mike looks dazedly up to see him standing next to Chuck, still shirtless and hatless with the arms of his jumpsuit tied around his hips. He glances from Mike and Dutch to Chuck and Julie, who are kissing again, and nods in approval. “Yeah, us Burners are _scorchin_ ’ hot today! Anybody comes near, they're gonna bust into flames like we were made of _lasers!_ ”

Chuck and Julie pull apart flushed, breathing hard, and grinning. “I think that sounds pretty accurate,” Julie says, sweeping her hair over her shoulder. “What probability would you give it, Chuck?”

“Oh, haha,” Chuck says, gliding his thumb back and forth over her collarbone. “Someone showing up out here right now? Like, point five percent. Them bursting into flames if they did? Definitely really likely, like, ninety-three percent at _least_.”

Dutch clearly has better things to focus on than the conversation. “There you go,” he says softly, and strokes down Mike's back, finally in all the way. “Knew you could do it.” Mike moans as he pulls back and moves in again, faster if not as fast as Mike wants. “Hey. I make you come, are you gonna want me to stop or keep goin’?”

Like he even has to ask. “Keep goin’,” Mike gasps, “definitely. I want you to come.”

Dutch groans down in his chest and changes his thrusts to rub over Mike's prostate quick and close together, making him gasp and claw at Mutt, moaning loud and shaky.

“Thanks, boys,” Julie says, and when Mike looks up, she's naked and moving closer. “Wanna use that mouth of yours, sexy?” she asks him, and his eyes widen.

“Please, yeah,” he breathes, mouth watering. He doesn't know how long he'll be able to concentrate with Dutch doing that, but god he wants to try, wants to get Julie as high as he can before he loses it.

She smiles at him, cheeks flushing a little darker as she spreads her legs and gets in close. The patch of hair revealed there is a pale copper instead of the deep red spilling over her shoulders and back, which Mike secretly thinks is kind of cool. His is the same color both places.

Lowering his head, he licks, strokes his tongue along her labia, parting them, then up to press against her clit. Julie hums softly, head tipping back. He teases her a little just to make her thighs twitch, licking too light to be enough until she huffs and groans at him.

“Mike, you better quit that or I'm gonna-- _mmh._ That's--better.”

He grins a little, rubbing firm circles with the tip of his tongue, and Julie pushes a hand into his hair and holds on. By the time Mike's knees are shaking and he has to stop because he can't coordinate anymore, Julie sounds almost as desperate as Mike and her limbs quiver when she tries to move.

“Chuck!” she says breathlessly, turning around. “You wanna-- _ahh_. Yeah.”

Mike appreciates the blond head ducking eagerly between her thighs. If he can't get Julie there, someone should, and Chuck is good at it.

Mike's not good for much right now, he can't even think, his head is empty of everything but _please, yeah, more_. He's shaking all over, he can feel sweat trickling down from the backs of his knees and he's kind of making a lot of noise because he's _so close_ , he _wants_ , he--

“Please Dutch,” he's gasping, words spilling out all by themselves, “please, god babe, I need it so bad, please let me--”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Dutch mutters behind him, and, “Okay, sweetheart, it's okay, I gotcha.” His hand slides under Mike's hip, wraps around him as Mike cries out and scrabbles at the car, every muscle locking tight. Dutch strokes twice and Mike comes apart, pleasure crashing through him until he forgets who he is, forgets his name and his goals and his past and he's nothing but a body, spread out and shivering in bliss.

He doesn't come back for a while. When he does, Dutch is still there, rocking into him slow and deep, holding him firmly by the hips to keep him from oozing off the car.

“Holy crap,” Mike mumbles, trying to get his knees to stop imitating noodles and work again.

“Yeah?” Dutch says, and Mike can hear the grin in his voice. “That looked like a good one.”

“Oh my god, dude,” Mike says. “Yyyeah.” He takes a few deep breaths and manages to lift his head.

Julie’s sprawled against the windshield with Chuck still ducked between her legs, her fingers buried in his hair and her eyes closed. Texas is playing with her breasts, thumbing her nipples and sucking on them. She's making those moans that slide higher and higher until she starts keening, and her thighs are shaking. She must have taken a little breather after the first one, because she was almost there when Mike lost it, and if they'd just kept going this round wouldn't be taking so long.

Mike licks his lips and smiles a little, watching as Chuck and Texas cooperate to make Julie come. They're all so sexy, and it's really great to watch them take care of each other.

Julie goes stiff all over, hands clenching in Chuck’s hair, and her body shudders and jolts again and again as Chuck coaxes her from peak to peak. Texas groans a little, watching her, and Mike completely agrees. Julie’s incredibly hot, and Chuck and Texas working on her is hot, and what Dutch is doing right now is hot, and _god_ Mike is lucky.

Dutch gasps and his hips speed up, snapping into Mike in a quick burst that stutters as Dutch curls over him, shaking. Mike reaches back and puts his hand over Dutch’s on his hip, something warm and soft unfurling in his chest. He loves this closeness, getting naked and shaky and real. Loves that he can have this with his Burners.

“How you doin’, handsome?” he murmurs over his shoulder.

“Ngh,” Dutch says, panting. “God.”

Mike grins. “Good to know.”

“Nh, stop bein’... smug,” Dutch mutters.

Mike laughs. “Sorry, dude, can't. I like making you feel good, it's kind of a thing for me.”

Dutch’s lips press against Mike’s spine, just below the neck. “Can't stop bein’ cute, either,” he says, tone aiming for annoyed and getting a lot closer to affectionate.

“That one's definitely in the eye of the beholder,” Mike says.

Dutch kisses his shoulder blade and straightens up, pulls carefully out, hissing, and suddenly says, “Texas, the heck did you do with your condom?”

“Oh, I dunno, just chucked it over there or somethin’.” Texas waves at the weeds a little distance away.

“Okay, wow, that is disgusting,” Dutch says. “Julie? You thought of everything else, right?”

“Mm,” Julie says, reclining against the windshield, limp. Chuck is sitting nearby, stroking her hip soothingly. “Plastic bag in the satchel,” Julie says without opening her eyes.

“Much better,” Dutch says. “In a trash bag is how you properly dispose of _trash_ , Texas. Don't just dump your gross litter all over someone else's private art spot.”

Ignoring the ongoing argument as Texas goes over to Dutch to scoff at close range, Mike climbs back onto Mutt’s hood and sprawls out, loose-limbed and pleased and eager for what's next. Chuck clipped his bangs back from his face at some point while Mike was distracted, and there's a flush high on his cheeks, probably due to the fact that his pants are looking pretty tight. He's not paying that any attention, though, watching Julie with a shy smile.

“Wow, Jules, you look kinda worn out. How many was that?” Mike says, grinning.

She snorts without opening her eyes. “I wasn't counting. If I can't talk, I can't count. Chuck’s got a real smart mouth.”

“I’ll agree with that,” Mike says.

Chuck purses his lips, pretending annoyance. “Come up here and say that to my face, bro.”

Mike scrambles up to sit by him and Chuck kisses him, slow and so good it's dizzying. Both hands in Mike’s hair, Chuck holds his head still until suddenly he leans back, pulling Mike away by two fistfuls of hair. Gasping a little, Mike stares wide-eyed, a flare of heat going through him at the unyielding grip.

Chuck eyes him thoughtfully. “That's just giving you what you want, though. I'm not supposed to be doing what _you_ want, I'm supposed to use you like _I_ want. Right, Mikey?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, breathless. “That's right. Whatever you want, buddy, anything-- _ah!_ ”

“You should be careful what you promise,” Chuck says, tugging on his hair again, pulling Mike’s head to one side and the other.

“You know I'm serious, Chuckles,” Mike says. “You can have anything you want.”

Chuck pulls his head back until he's arched into a bow, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah? What if I want to put Julie’s plug back in you? Leave it there for the rest of the day. You were going crazy after an hour, you think you could take that?”

Mike swallows hard. “I'd do it for you,” he says hoarsely. “You know I would. I'd do anything for you, whatever makes you happy.”

Chuck makes this funny little noise and pulls him up again, kisses him hard enough to leave Mike reeling. “God,” Chuck mutters, brushing a hand over Mike’s cheek. “You're too sweet, I can't deal with it.”

“Hey,” Mike says softly, smiling at him, “I love you too.”

Chuck makes a choked noise and dives in to kiss him again, whispers, “Me too, I, I love you too,” when he pulls back.

“It's okay,” Julie murmurs, and when Mike glances over she's watching them with a fond little smile. “You don't have to be embarrassed about it, baby,” she says to Chuck.

“ _Gnnk_ ,” Chuck says, and hides his face against Mike's shoulder.

“He's not,” Mike says, half-guessing, feeling his way into it. “It's more--feelings overload. Right?” Chuck nods without lifting his head and Mike curls an arm around him, stroking his bony back.

“Ah,” Julie says, sitting up. “Well, that's all right. You want help with him when you're ready, Chuck?”

Chuck takes a couple of breaths and straightens, still blotchy red and avoiding their eyes, and nods.

“Should we get him nice and worked up again,” Julie says as Chuck rubs his hands over his face, “or do you just want his mouth?”

Chuck drops his hands at that and shakes his head at her. “Pretty sure you already know the answer to that.”

So does Mike. “Guys, come on,” he says. “Chuck, can't I just suck you off? What's so fun about making me wait all the time?”

Julie grins at him. “You really want an answer to that?”

Chuck reaches out and carefully wraps one big hand around Mike’s throat. Mike stops breathing for a minute, and not because of the grip, which is hard but not choking. Chuck smiles at him, hazel eyes hot and intent.

“What's so fun: an incomplete list,” Chuck says. “Winding you tighter and tighter until you're completely desperate.” He tugs Mike around, fingers almost bruising tight on his neck, and Mike goes obediently, gasping as Chuck pushes him down on his back and holds him there. His whole body is tingling and flushing hot.

“Making you beg,” Julie adds. She pats the side of Mike's thigh and he bends his knee, pulls his foot up. Reaching between his legs, she strokes his balls and he twitches and shivers, letting out an unsteady little sound.

“Watching you get sweaty and shaky,” Chuck says, running a finger along Mike's lips, which immediately seem to become twice or three times as sensitive as usual. He moans and Chuck smiles again.

“Mm, getting you close and stopping. Doing that until your knees give out,” Julie says. “You know, Chuck, I brought rope.”

“Oh, nice! Uh, do we want to do that or get Texas to hold him down?”

Mike can't help moaning again, because they're talking over his head again and it's just as hot as it was the first time. Chuck’s hand is still around his neck, pressing him against the car. As Chuck’s talking with Julie he slides a finger into Mike’s mouth and oh look at that, Mike’s hard again.

“Good point,” Julie says. “Hey Texas! You want to come be cuffs for Mike?”

There's an indistinct sound and a grunt from Texas, whose voice is a little breathless when he says, “Yeah, can't get loose from Texas! I'm on it!”

He and Dutch must have switched from bickering to making out. That's good, Mike thinks vaguely, and then Chuck’s finger in his mouth slowly pulls back and pushes in again and Julie digs her nails in a little on the inside of his thigh and Mike is making soft sounds and not thinking anymore.

Texas gets up on the hood and grabs Mike's wrists, pulls them up over his head and pins them there. Mike tugs automatically, struggling against Texas’s hold the way he won't against Chuck’s. Texas’s hands are unyielding, and Mike gets nowhere. It's intoxicating, makes him struggle even harder until Texas huffs and tightens his grip to bruising.

Hands grab the ankle of the leg that's still stretched out straight and Dutch helps hold Mike down. Mike only tests his grip a little because he knows he can get loose. Dutch isn't Texas.

“Uh-uh,” Chuck says in a stern tone, “stop that.” His finger pulls out of Mike’s mouth and his hand smacks down on Mike's ribs, stinging. Mike jolts, and Chuck’s grip on his throat loosens a second, uncertain, and no he needs to not stop, definitely.

“ _God_ , Chuck,” Mike gasps.

Chuck’s hand firms again, even tightens slightly, and Mike groans without even meaning to. “No fighting us,” Chuck says, voice high and breathy.

Mike looks up at him, licks his lips and grins. “Yeah?” He pulls at his wrists again, jerks gently at his leg, just a warning so Dutch clutches at it. “Or what?”

Chuck thins his lips in disapproval, and even knowing it's a game, an anxious little twinge of remorse goes through Mike, _no I'm sorry I didn't mean it don't be mad_. He holds out, though. Everybody likes this game, it's okay.

“Hmm,” Julie says, and takes Mike’s balls between her fingers to tug gently. Mike goes very still, eyes round. She wouldn't hurt him, but it's pretty hard to think about annoying her when she's holding onto him like that.

“Mm, that works,” Chuck says dubiously, “but as soon as you let go he's gonna be a pain again.”

“Well,” Julie says, “I guess our toy needs to be put in his place properly. Let's turn him over.” She lets go, pushes his bent leg down for Dutch to grab, and between the four of them they get Mike flipped onto his stomach fast. He doesn't try too hard to stop them, but he doesn't help, either. Once he's on his face, Dutch lets him pull up one leg just slightly so he can keep his hips at an angle and not press flat against unyielding metal.

“Okay,” Mike says, laughing a little. “Now what, guys?”

“Now you stop mouthing off,” Chuck says, grabbing his hair, pulls his head up and shoves two fingers in his mouth. A muffled whine comes out around them and Mike shudders and goes limp and docile, panting through his nose. Two seconds later he's twisting, pulling against all the hands on him just to feel them tighten.

Julie tsks. “What do you think, guys? A spanking might take him down a peg or two. Or we could use his belt. Or we could always put something in him and tie him up for a while, see how long it takes him to beg.”

Mike can't stop the noise that comes out of him at that, a long, shaky moan of mingled want and dismay. _Yes god please punish me, make me behave_ and _don't make me wait anymore, I can't, please_. He can, though, and he will if they want him to. He'll do anything for them.

“Criminy,” Dutch mutters. “You brought more toys? How much stuff did you stick in that little bag?”

Mike can hear the smug look when she says, “Enough. It pays to be prepared. Now, what do you think?”

“Tyin’ him up’s gonna be too slow,” Texas says. His face is flushed across the cheekbones and the tips of his ears, and his hair is tousled instead of smooth and slicked back. “Smack him some, get him makin’ noise! Texas can do it for you!”

“Everyone knows what I think,” Chuck says.

“The king of edging has spoken,” Julie says, and he twitches.

“ _Julie!_ ” he says, high and squeaky.

“Man, there's nothin’ wrong with that,” Dutch says. “Chill, okay? Me, I say… he wants to play hardball, let's play. Use a belt, make him feel it.”

“Oh, he's definitely going to feel it,” Julie purrs, and Mike groans, tugging distractedly at Texas’s hold on his arms again. “Let's see,” she goes on. “I vote… belt. Which makes it two to one and one.”

“Sounds great to Texas,” Texas says, eyes fixed on Mike’s face. “Let's mess him up!”

“Three to one,” Julie corrects herself, and Chuck huffs.

“Yeah, whatever, fine. Nobody has any patience but me.”

“So,” Julie says, ignoring this, “that'll actually work better in a different position.”

They move him until his feet are on the ground and he's bent over the car again. Texas is still pinning his wrists to the hood and Chuck keeps touching Mike’s lips and pushing fingers in his mouth. Along with all the manhandling and talking over his head about what to do with him, it's got Mike so turned on he keeps forgetting to struggle.

Julie and Dutch confer behind him.

“Yeah? You sure?” Dutch says.

“Yup!” Julie says. “I'm going to sit back and enjoy the show.”

Dutch snorts. “Oh good, no pressure or anything,” he says, but his grin is audible. Mike hears the hiss of a belt through the air and braces, but Dutch must just be testing it out or something. It hisses a few more times, then just as Mike is jerking at his wrists, the belt snaps across his butt, making him jump at the sting.

“Hold still, Mikey,” Chuck says, grabbing the back of his neck in a tight grip. His other hand rocks two fingers slowly into Mike’s mouth, deep and shallow and deep again, and Mike moans around them.

The belt comes down again, harder this time, and again, again, picking up a steady rhythm of stinging blows until Mike is groaning and squirming. After a few long-stretching minutes, his butt and upper thighs are burning and god it's _so good_ , he wants more, it hurts and it's amazing, it makes him want to struggle harder, pull away and fight someone. He can't pull away, though, and every time he tries, Chuck makes sharp scolding noises at him. He's got no choice but to hold still and take it.

When he finally stops fighting entirely and goes still, pinned and quivering, Dutch gives him another few strokes and stops. Mike is heaving for breath, sucking on Chuck’s fingers and letting out soft moans on every exhale.

“Well?” Chuck says, voice unsteady. “Are you going to behave yourself now?”

Mike whines and nods, hips twitching.

“Good boy,” Julie says, stroking a hand down his sweaty back. That gets a loud moan. “You’re going to be good for us now. You're going to let us do whatever we want with you, use you however we like, aren't you?” A whimper and another nod. “And you're not going to give us any more trouble?”

Mike doesn't know why he hesitates, why he can't just shake his head obediently. Somehow the question makes him uneasy, calls up echoes of a deep voice growling and sneering at him. He can't--he can't promise that. It's stupid, his Burners are nothing like Kane, he doesn't need to fight them--but he needs the option. He's not even planning to resist, but he can't say that, can't make the promise.

“Does someone need some more persuasion?” Julie says, and Mike doesn't know how to answer that one either because he's not--he's not being bad on purpose now but he's sure not being good. Maybe Dutch should start up again, make it hurt until Mike gets his head straightened out.

“No,” Chuck says, pulling his fingers out of Mike's mouth. “I don't think he does. Mikey? Talk to us, bro. What's up?”

Mike drops his forehead to rest against the hood between his pinned arms and breathes, trying to figure out something useful to say. He messed it up, he's being weird, he needs to get things back on track, he owes it to them. Kane’s snarling face hangs behind his eyes, saying, _You always were more trouble than you're worth_.

All he can find to say is, “I'll be good,” in a low voice.

“Mike?” Chuck says, and _god_ Mike’s messed this up, he's got Chuck anxious now, he's such a screw-up--

“Of course you'll be good,” Julie says, stroking the length of his back, slow and steady. “You're always good for us.”

Mike twitches without meaning to. That's just so obviously untrue right now.

“You are!” Dutch says from behind him, and a new hand strokes along his side and hip. “Man, you know no one’s mad at you for struggling, right? Just a game, dude, we know you'd quit if we needed you to. Just like we'd let you go if you needed that.”

“Messed it up,” Mike mutters. “‘m bein’ weird and Chuck’s all upset now and--”

“Because I'm _worried_ about you, you dope!” Chuck says. “You just kind of froze up on us and I don't know what happened!”

“I think,” Julie says, “it was something I said. That's when he went all tense--Mike, no, stop blaming yourself and _relax_.”

About to say that it wasn't her fault, he was just being dumb, he swallows and subsides.

“No one's angry,” Julie says. “No one's disappointed, or anything like that. We're a little worried about you, but that's okay, we're _fine._ Chuck is fine. Right?”

Chuck huffs. “Yes. Seriously, bro, you're the only one who's not looking so hot right now.”

Yeah, and it's worrying people and screwing everything up, he knows, thanks.

“Hey, Texas is feelin’ kinda funny about this, should, uh--”

“Yeah,” Chuck says, “let him up. Come up here, Mikey.”

Texas lets go of Mike’s wrists and Mike's not sure if he's relieved or dismayed. It takes a moment before he can bring himself to lift his head and climb obediently back up on the hood. Chuck pulls him close, one hand on his back, one stroking his hair, and some of the muscles strung taut through Mike’s neck and shoulders start to relax automatically. If Chuck is touching him, things are still okay somehow.

“You don't have to tell us what it was if you don't want to,” Julie says, sliding a hand back and forth over his shoulder, “but if there's something in particular we shouldn't--I shouldn't--do or say in the future, it'd be nice to know. I didn't mean to--”

“You didn't do anything wrong,” Mike says. He can't meet her eyes. Julie’s always so confident, and now thanks to Mike she sounds unsure and it's just so wrong. He can't even get things right for the people he cares about. “I just--‘m being dumb, it's not anyone else's fault.”

“Mike--” Chuck starts, and breaks off as Dutch says, “Man, _no._ You're not bein’ dumb, that's not what this is. Whatever’s goin’ on right now, you're not doin’ it on purpose, so you gotta stop blaming yourself for it.”

“It's messing everything up, though,” Mike says.

“We'll get back to it when we're ready,” Julie says. “Right now you're upset and we're trying to figure out how to help. You haven't messed anything up, Mike. Everything's okay.”

It was stupid to get messed up over nothing in the first place, though, he shouldn't need help, Mike thinks, and then stops. That's… wrong, probably. That's the kind of thing they yell at him for saying. He didn't get--weird, upset, whatever--on purpose, it's the kind of thing you can't always control. That's what Dutch is saying. And Mike's supposed to ask when he needs things, which means it's okay to need something to change, and his friends want to know about it when he does.

He takes a breath and drops his forehead against Chuck’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says.

“You want a hug, bro?” Chuck says.

Mike hesitates. “Yeah,” he says, and bites his lip. “From… all of…?”

“No problem, babe, we gotcha,” Dutch says, and then they're moving in around him, Dutch wrapping his arms around Mike from behind, Julie pressing up against his side, Texas trying to hug Mike from behind Chuck and squeezing until Chuck squeaks. Sheepish but grateful, Mike touches them back at forearm, wrist, shoulder, and mutters half-ashamed apologies they answer with _Mikey, no_ , and _you did fine, okay, everything's okay_ , and _relax, man, we love you_. Slowly the tension and the edge of self-loathing seep away and he starts to breathe easier.

“Geez, Tiny,” Texas says after a minute or two, pulling back, and the intertwined knot of embracing arms loosens as the others follow suit. “You beat yourself up about the weirdest junk.”

“Texas!” Chuck says in annoyance, but Mike is dissolving into laughter, startled and relieved.

“Yeah, I know, buddy,” he says, grinning, and shrugs. “I'm a weird kind of guy. But fortunately, you guys put up with me anyway.”

“Right, put up with,” Julie says, rolling her eyes, one hand light on Mike’s back.

“Only if that translates to ‘are seriously in love with’,” Dutch says, and his arms tighten again as Mike leans back into him. “Wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself, man,” he adds quietly. “We don't care about any of that junk, we just want you to be okay.”

Mike ducks his head. “I know. I didn't--I'm sor--”

“Nope, vetoed,” Julie says firmly. “If I don't get to apologize for whatever set this off--”

“Jules, no, it wasn't--”

“--then you don't get to apologize for being set off. That's the deal.”

He purses his lips at her.

“Bro, you did good,” Chuck says. “Don't give me that look, you did. This stuff is hard to deal with, but you didn't try to ignore it, and you listened to us when we said it wasn't your fault. That's really good.”

“Hey, yeah!” Texas says. “He did good, he should totally get a reward!”

Mike wants to protest, because messing up is bad enough without being rewarded for it, too, but Chuck is smiling, stroking a hand through Mike's hair. “Is that okay? Or do you want to stop for now?”

Mike's head tilts into Chuck’s hand all by itself. “No, don't stop. Yeah. I'm okay.”

Julie snorts quietly. “When does he ever want to stop.”

Chuck ignores this. “You want a kiss?”

Mike swallows and nods. He pretty much always wants to be kissing Chuck, it's just really good, and comforting, and hot.

Chuck kisses him slow and gentle, one arm around him, the other hand in his hair. Dutch’s arms are still around his waist, Julie’s hand still on his back as she leans against his side. When Chuck finally pulls away, Dutch moves to one side to kiss Mike, and then Julie leans in, and then Texas.

By the time Mike finishes kissing Texas thoroughly, Dutch and Julie are kissing behind him. That's a relief. For a while there, he was afraid he'd knocked things too far off the track for everyone to get back to having fun.

Texas sprawls back against the windshield, palming his dick idly through his jumpsuit and watching Dutch and Julie. Mike goes for another kiss from Chuck.

“So,” Chuck says when he pulls back. “When you first went quiet--no, Mikey, don't get all tense, stop. Look, how many times have I flipped out over something totally idiotic? And you never get impatient with me.”

“That's different.”

Chuck snorts. “No, it's fucking not.”

Mike gives him a disapproving look and Chuck stares, then rolls his eyes.

“I've been swearing all day, bro, now’s a little late to complain.”

“Yeah, well, I was distracted before.”

“Uh-huh. Look, whatever it was, would a hug have helped?”

Mike blinks, thinks about it, then tries to stop remembering the mix of disconcerted anxiety and self-hatred that slid into his head out of nowhere. “Maybe. But, I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘I feel weird for no reason, I want a hug’?”

“Yes,” Chuck says firmly. “Hey, whatever works, right?”

Mike makes a rueful face at him. “Yeah, but it sounds dumb.”

Chuck snickers. “Well, that's okay. Sometimes _you're_ kind of dumb.”

Mike quirks him a smile. “Yeah, well, no one said you guys liked me for my smarts.”

Chuck goes bright red, which makes Mike snort with laughter.

“Dude, I didn't even _say_ anything, whatever’s got you blushing is your own fau--mmph,” Mike finishes as Chuck kisses him hard.

“Shut up, shut up, you're too naked for me not to think things,” Chuck mumbles, and kisses him again, hot and deep and fierce enough to make Mike moan.

...Yeah, okay. More things could definitely happen pretty soon, that'd be good.

A few minutes later, Texas edges up beside them and says casually, “Hey Tiny, how's your butt feel?”

Mike pulls out of the kiss sort of dazed and says, “Okay, stings a little, wh-- _ahh!_ ”

Texas grins and smacks him again. Chuck whimpers at the noise he makes, then says in an indignant squeak, “Texas, you're supposed to check first!”

“Oh, right. That okay?” Texas says to Chuck.

“Wha--why are you asking me?! Ask him!”

“Cuz Tiny sometimes says it's okay when it's not,” Texas says, shrugging powerful shoulders.

“Hey!” Mike says. “I did that _once!_ ”

“All right, so answer the question,” Chuck says. “Was that okay?”

Mike licks his lips. “Yeah,” he says, shifting his hips a little. His skin still burns where Texas hit him, heavier and brighter than the lingering sting and heat from the belt. Some of the spots Dutch caught him multiple times are definitely going to bruise. God, he's going to be shifting in his seat all the way home after this, and he's so turned on he's panting already. “Yeah, it's good.”

Texas grins. “Awesome,” he says with satisfaction. “Bend over.”

Mike absolutely can't help the little whine that comes out through his teeth at the order, and he scrambles to get on his hands and knees facing away from Texas.

“Really, Texas?” Dutch says, pulling away from sucking on Julie’s breasts. “The first round wasn't enough, you gotta do it yourself?”

“What? It's fun,” Texas says, and moves up beside Mike to start smacking him sharp and quick. Mike gasps and moans, rocking back into the blows.

“Go easy on him,” Julie says. “He has to drive home after this.”

Texas huffs and keeps going. “Yeah, yeah, Texas won't break him or nothin’.”

“‘s fine,” Mike pants, “seriously guys ah _nnh!_ _Hhh_ I don't mind!”

“Mm, yeah, I'm not sure if it's the endorphins or the adrenaline addict talking,” Dutch says.

“You forgot the masochist,” Chuck points out.

“Guys,” Mike moans in protest, and then suddenly they're all touching him, Dutch tugging at his hair and running hands over his shoulders, Julie tracing his lips, sliding a fingertip between them, Chuck reaching under his chest to pluck at his sore nipples.

“Tex, I think you better stop,” Chuck says after another minute.

“He is pretty sexy like this,” Julie says breathlessly, as Texas smacks him one last time on each side of his butt and quits, leaving Mike squirming at the absence of stimulation. His skin back there is burning hot and aching and he's hard enough to pound right through Mutt’s hood, not that he would do that to his girl.

“Well, yeah,” Chuck says, “but you're not the one who has to ride with him on the way home. I'm gonna have to keep my hands off him, and the more he shifts around and wiggles in his seat, the harder that's gonna be.”

“Well, something’s gonna be hard,” Texas says, slapping Chuck on the shoulder so he yelps.

“Dude, watch it!”

“Guys,” Mike says, breathing hard. “I--I need--can someone--please, I'm so--”

Texas puts his hands back on Mike's butt, thumbs spreading him open so Mike groans tightly. “You want some more Texas?”

“Oh god please,” Mike gasps, “please yes.”

“I gotcha, Texas is on it,” Texas says, and makes rustling noises behind Mike, pulling his jumpsuit down again and rummaging in Julie’s bag.

Mike focuses on breathing, but it's hard when he's losing his mind. Julie is still touching his lips and dipping into his mouth, Dutch and Chuck still have their hands on him, just casually sliding over his body like it's theirs to handle however they want because it _is_ , he's theirs and it feels _so good_ \--

“Hey, bro,” Chuck says in a voice that completely fails to be casual, “you, uh, you want to do something for me?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, “anything.”

“Cool,” Chuck says, and Dutch and Julie make space for him to move in front of Mike. Chuck kneels up and opens his pants, shoves them down his thighs, and Mike's mouth is watering already, he sways forward and Chuck catches him by the hair. Mike whines.

“Who's in charge, Mikey?”

“You,” Mike pants, holding still, being good. “You guys.”

“Good boy,” Chuck says, and tugs at his hair. “Now open up.”

 _God_. Mike’s eyes roll back in his head and his mouth drops open on its own. Chuck pushes in and doesn't stop, doesn't hesitate, just shoves all the way back so Mike has to relax his throat not to choke. And then he pulls out and tugs Mike onto him again by the _hair_ , oh _god_ , starts pumping into Mike’s mouth slow and deep like it's his right, which it is, like Mike is just his toy to use however he wants, which he _is_.

Then Texas pushes in behind him, gentle for Texas, but everything is so tender back there inside and out that it makes Mike keen. Texas starts thrusting, hips slamming against raw, aching skin every time he slides in, and Mike makes choked, hungry noises and swallows around Chuck. Chuck swears breathlessly.

“I kinda feel like I oughta be eatin’ popcorn or something,” Dutch says to Julie, “except it's too sexy to think about food.”

Julie makes a sound low in her throat. “Come over here,” she says, and Dutch’s eyes go wide before he scrambles to obey.

Mike wishes he could watch them, but he's _really occupied_ with what Texas and Chuck are doing to him. Texas is clutching at his hips, digging in hard enough Mike knows there will be fingertip sized bruises in an hour, grunting and making little pleased humming sounds deep in his chest as he takes Mike, pushing in deep. Chuck is making those gorgeous whimpers and sighing moans and high-pitched gasps he does when he gets lost in what he's feeling. His hands are clenched in Mike’s hair so his scalp aches and his hips keep driving into Mike’s mouth. Mike’s lips are stretched and swollen, his jaw aches, it's hard to time his breathing right, and he's so weak with need that his elbows keep trying to give way and drop him on his face. It's good. It's really, really good.

After a while, Chuck pulls out of his mouth. Mike licks his lips and gasps a minute, then looks up in question when Chuck shows no sign of pushing back in.

“Not ready yet,” Chuck says, and Mike’s moan of disappointment is muffled by the fingers Chuck shoves between his lips instead. Mike’s eyes flutter shut and he does his best to make Chuck reconsider, sucking and licking and curling his tongue.

Chuck hums approvingly. “Yeah, that's it. Good,” he says, and his other hand loosens in Mike’s hair, stroking over his sore scalp.

“Doin’ okay, Tiny?” Texas gasps, as his rhythm stutters--he's getting close. One hand slides around Mike's hip to his stomach, questioning. “You wanna--”

“No, he can wait longer,” Chuck interrupts.

Texas snorts, but puts his hand back on Mike’s hip as Mike groans in dismay. “Dang, you guys are mean,” Texas gets out, and stops talking.

He speeds up, hips thrusting wildly as Mike shudders and pants around Chuck’s fingers, noises soft and muffled. Mike is so close when Texas comes that for a moment he thinks he'll follow right after. He hangs there on the edge, quivering, before it slides out of reach again and he slumps with a low whimper.

“God, Mikey,” Chuck says in a breathless groan, fingers slipping deeper in Mike’s mouth and out again. “You're doing so well, bro, you're so good for us.”

Mike is gasping for breath, still aching, wanting, needing, but hearing it helps, sends that familiar warmth and comfort washing through him. He's good, he did good. He sucks gently, lets his teeth just graze the underside of one finger, then twists his tongue there, and Chuck makes a gasping squeaky noise. Chuck’s still so hard, he hasn't even pulled his pants up, he's just right there all hard and slick in front of Mike and all Mike wants is to swallow him down again, make him come. Chuck won't let him, though, not yet.

Texas groans contentedly and pulls out, pats Mike on the back instead of his sore butt.

“What's the plan, Chuck?” Julie drawls. Mike turns his head enough to look sideways and see her lounging against Dutch, both of them naked, smug and sleepy-eyed. “He's looking a little desperate.”

Which is a lie, Mike is fine, he's okay, he can handle this, he can wait as long as they want him to, he swears. He just really really hopes it's not much longer.

“Right where we like him,” Chuck says. “Yeah, I'll… take care of him. I've got an idea.”

Mike moans because it's instinct by now when Chuck mentions an _idea_ in that particular tone of voice. Either it's going to completely ruin Mike or he's going to love it, possibly both.

The others recognize it too.

“Oh yeah?” Dutch says, grinning. “Can't wait.”

“Heck yeah!” Texas says. “Wreck him good, little man!”

Julie just smiles and keeps watching.

“Whatever, guys,” Chuck mumbles, ducking his head and looking pleased as he flushes darker. He pulls his fingers out of Mike’s mouth and puts them under his chin, tilting his head up. “Mike, I want you to think very carefully, okay? Don't think with your dick, think about what your body can handle. Can you do that for me?”

That's not exactly going to be easy right now, when Mike is floating on hot, hazy clouds and everything is amazing and all he wants is _more_ , but. Chuck asked, so he'll try. He nods.

“Are you gonna be able to sit down tomorrow if you get fucked again?”

Mike’s eyes widen and he's moaning softly before the language registers. Then he blinks and pinches his lips reproachfully and Chuck snorts.

“Still not gonna stop swearing, deal with it, bro. Don't worry, I'll distract you again in a minute,” he says, too casually to be a threat, quite, and Mike shivers all over. “Now remember who's in charge and answer the damn question.”

He tries to think it through even though he wants to just say _do it, I'll be fine, please just_ \--can't do that. Gotta do what Chuck asked, be good, think. He sits back on his haunches and catches his breath as burning, sensitive skin comes down on his heels, twitches partway up on his knees again. Gives Chuck a half-grimace, half-grin.

“Kinda think at this point that's not gonna make much difference either way, buddy.”

Chuck groans, runs a hand through his hair, then has to fix the clips holding his bangs back. “Great, good going, guys. If we'd done it my way this wouldn't be an issue!”

Dutch and Texas protest at the same time. Julie’s smile twists in amusement.

Mike just shrugs. “Not like I mind, dude, you know that.”

“Yeah, we'll see what you've got to say about it tomorrow when you're limping and trying to avoid sitting down,” Chuck says darkly.

“Chuckles,” Mike says softly. “I want it. Whatever you want, I'm up for it. Just, um, soon? Please?”

Chuck’s breath hisses out of him and his hazel eyes darken, pupils flaring. “Yeah, okay,” he says, voice cracking, and clambers off the hood of the car.

Puzzled, Mike watches as Chuck comes around to the driver's side, where the satchel is, instead of just staying put on the hood and leaning past Mike to get it.

“Want me to take care of that, buddy?” he says as Chuck fishes out a condom.

“No I'm good!” Chuck says in a high voice, and turns his back to the car to put it on.

Grinning, Mike glances over at the others to share how cute Chuck is. Texas snorts, Dutch grins back, and Julie gives Mike the kind of smile a well-fed cat might give a particularly cute sparrow. Everything throbs like she ran her hands over him, and Mike pulls in his next breath faster, swallows and turns away with difficulty.

“Okay,” Chuck says, and opens the driver’s side door. “You ready, Mikey?”

“Uh, yeah? What…?”

“Well, come here, then,” Chuck tells him, and slides into the driver's seat.

It takes a second to really hit, and then Mike’s eyes go round and the breath huffs out of him. “Wha--really?”

“Well, like you said, originally we were gonna be in the car, right?” Chuck smirks at him through the windshield. “I'd hate to disappoint.”

Mike just stares for a moment, open-mouthed. He loves his car. He loves driving his car. And he's used to being in control there, always the one calling the shots and choosing how to go and leading the team, and Chuck is just casually sliding into his place like it's nothing. Like he's so sure of his command over Mike that taking over the driver's seat is just a formality he hasn't bothered with yet.

It's kind of _really hot_ , Mike realizes.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, face going warm, and scrambles off the car. He steps around the door and hesitates. “Which way--”

“Sit down and grab the steering wheel, Mike,” Chuck says. He's slid the seat as far from the wheel as it'll go so there's enough space. “That way the others can see your face.”

Okay, wow, after everything they've already done, today and in the months before, there is _no_ reason this should be making Mike blush, but his cheeks are so hot right now. He slides onto Chuck’s thighs with his back to him, gasping at the friction on sore skin, puts his hands on the wheel, gets his knees on the seat to kneel up, and lets Chuck’s hands on his hips guide him back onto Chuck. He and Chuck both moan.

“Oh my god,” Dutch mutters from the hood. When Mike glances up, he and Texas are both watching through the windshield.

Just as he wonders where Julie is, the passenger's side door opens and she slides into Chuck’s seat, curls her legs under her and smiles. “Don't try to hide behind Mike, I want to watch _both_ of you,” she says, and Chuck makes a little groaning noise, hips twitching up into Mike, making him gasp.

Mike rises up on his knees and sinks down again fast, trying to get Chuck into it enough that he won't want to--

“Mikey!” Chuck says, breathless and strained, but his hands are tight on Mike's hips, keeping him still. “Cool it!”

Mike whines in complaint and pushes against Chuck’s hold, which doesn't give.

“Come on, bro, just let me touch you a while, okay? You said I could have anything I wanted, right?”

Mike takes a deep breath and nods. He did say that, and he meant it. He can wait as long as Chuck wants. ...Even if he really doesn't want to.

“Good boy,” Chuck says, and Mike shivers. “Just chill and let me play with you, yeah?”

“Too bad for you, Mike,” Dutch comments. “If he'd stayed out here, the rest of us could get our hands on _both_ of you, but there's no room in there.”

“Which is good!” Chuck says, dragging his short nails over Mike’s hip bones so he twitches and gasps. “Because I have to concentrate, and I can't do that if you guys are--Julie no!”

Julie is leaning over from the passenger's seat, one hand outstretched. She stops and smiles, hair sliding over her shoulder in a shining red curtain. “No? You don't think Mike deserves a little backup driving you crazy?”

“Ahahaha _no_ , I don't! What, are you guys losing focus already? We're supposed to be paying attention to _Mike_ , remember? Not me!”

“‘Already’, he says, after like two hours,” Dutch sighs.

“Hey, Texas is focused!” Texas puts in. “Let's get to the part where you guys have sex already!”

Julie twists her lips and huffs playfully, but reaches for Mike instead of Chuck, running her fingers over a nipple. Mike moans but holds still.

“That's it, Mikey,” Chuck murmurs, and nips the base of Mike’s neck, hands sliding up his front to tease with Julie.

They tug at his red, aching nipples, dig their nails into his skin, stroke and grope and rub until Mike is shaking with the effort not to move, gasps and groans and whimpers falling out of him without notice. Julie reaches between his legs and brushes fingertips over his balls and Mike’s hands spasm on the wheel.

“You're doing so well, cowboy,” Julie says. “Look at you being so good for us.”

“How's it feel?” Chuck asks, and sucks a mark onto the back of Mike’s shoulder as he tries to answer.

“Ah! Nnh… f-feels good.”

“Can you feel Chuck in you?” Julie says.

“Julie, geez!” Chuck says, dropping his forehead against the back of Mike's neck to hide his face.

Mike groans because _yeah_ , he can feel him, and Chuck’s a lot more substantial than Julie’s little plug, he's all long and nice and it'd be really good if he'd just _move_. Mike’s skin is hot and aching, it burns where he's pressed against Chuck, sitting in his lap, and everything is sensitive and Mike needs more and he can't take this much longer.

“Yes,” he gasps, “I can, please, please Chuck, I want, please can we just…”

“You want it bad, bro?” Chuck says, fingers pausing on Mike’s nipples. Mike whines in response.

“Okay,” Chuck says, and takes a deep breath. “You've been good. You deserve it. Go ahead and move.”

Mike is hitching himself up as soon as Chuck says it, slamming down and jerking up again, moving fast and desperate. Chuck groans breathlessly and Julie makes a hungry, approving noise.

Chuck just lets him move, freckled hands sliding over Mike's body, brushing over his chest, across his inner thighs while Mike trembles and clings to the steering wheel. Chuck’s breathing gets harsher and he moans quietly every few minutes, but he's obviously not getting there as fast as Mike is. Mike can't think enough to figure out what to do, though, just groans in frustration.

“What's wrong?” Chuck says, and pinches Mike's nipple. Mike almost yells, slamming down on him.

“I want,” he gasps, “you gotta--you're not--please, you gotta come.”

Chuck twitches, startled, grabs at his hips to slow him down and Mike makes a protesting noise. “Does it hurt, should you stop?”

“Wha-- _no_ , I just--” Chuck is going to hold off until Mike comes and then he'll get all concerned about Mike and he'll pull out instead of finishing and Mike just really wants this, is all, he wants to be the one making Chuck feel good, wants to feel it when he comes.

“Don't wait anymore,” Mike manages, “okay? Please?”

Chuck hesitates.

“ _You_ deserve it, too, you know, Chuck,” Julie says. “We've all had several; you haven't even had one yet. Why don't you stop doing equations in your head and fuck Mike properly.”

Chuck stutters out a groan and his hips rock up into Mike, making Mike catch his breath and push back against him all the harder.

“ _God_ , Julie,” Chuck gasps.

“Please, Chuck,” Mike breathes, and Chuck’s hands tighten on his hips. He thrusts up again and Mike moans, and Chuck starts making noise now too, loud and uncontrolled as they move together.

“That's more like it,” Julie murmurs in the background, but Mike isn't paying attention right now.

Chuck is rolling his hips up fast and hard, pulling Mike down into each stroke, and his breath is hot on the back of Mike’s neck as he lets out high, cracked moans and cries. Mike isn't as loud, but his hands are white-knuckled on the wheel and his thighs are shaking as he moves on Chuck. God, he's so close, and Chuck probably still has a ways to go--

“Julie,” Mike pants, “c-can you--help Chuck. Get there.”

“Hey, no,” Chuck gasps, “I don't need h-help!”

“No problem, cowboy,” Julie says, and he can hear the smirk. “Now stop worrying and enjoy yourself.”

“Mm-Mikey, _ah_ , I don't need--”

“Shh,” Julie says. “Prove it.”

Chuck makes a growling noise at her and a shiver goes through Mike. Everything is pulling taut, narrowing down to the burn of his skin and the sweet hot ache inside him, the edge drawing closer with every breath. Clinging to the wheel to keep from touching himself, Mike is barely aware that his moans have turned into begging.

“Please please please, let me, I want, please can I, please?”

“Please _what?_ ” Chuck says, rough with effort. “Say it, Mikey.”

Mike makes a choked sound. “Please touch me,” he gasps. “Let me c-come.”

“Good boy,” Chuck says in his ear, and Mike moans and bucks at the unexpected jolt of pleasure. He's so close, and then Chuck grabs him by the hair, wraps his other hand around Mike’s dick and strokes and Mike comes _wailing_.

Chuck keeps moving, hips pushing up into Mike as he shudders into pieces, keeps going as he shivers still finally. Hands on Mike’s hips, Chuck lifts him a little at each stroke to thrust in better.

“You okay, Mike?” Julie says.

“Mm-hm,” Mike mumbles, drifting. It's almost too much, he could maybe use a rest right now, but he can handle it for Chuck, he'll be fine.

“Chuck,” says Dutch, standing by the open door. “You gonna let us help or what?”

Chuck groans. “Fine,” he says breathlessly, “I'm almost there anyway, but _mmf!_ ”

Mike smiles, because even without looking behind him he can guess Julie just shoved her fingers in Chuck’s mouth and Dutch is probably biting marks into his throat. It takes about two seconds of that for Chuck to moan high and wild and start bucking, hips stuttering and jerking against Mike as he comes. Mike lets out a contented sigh, warm and satisfied.

Everyone pulls back, and for a moment Chuck panting is the only sound as he slumps back in the seat, hands loose on Mike’s hips. Then he takes a deep breath and pats one hip. “Come on, off, you've gotta be sore.”

Mike kneels up again, grimacing a little, then stumbles out of the car so Chuck can get out and deal with the condom. Dutch catches Mike by an elbow, steadies him. Dutch looks really good naked.

“Hey, man,” he says, brushing fingers across Mike’s cheek. “You doin’ all right?”

Mike smiles up at him and tilts his head into Dutch’s hand. “Heck yeah.” He can tell from the quiet throb and ache that he's going to hurt tomorrow--actually, probably in a couple of hours--but why the heck would he care about that? This was _amazing_.

“You sure?” Dutch’s brows pull together. “We didn't go too hard on you?”

Mike snorts. “What's ‘too hard’? You know I like it that way.”

Dutch sighs at him. “Dang it, Mike…”

“Hey,” says Chuck, coming up behind Mike. “Are you horning in on my snuggles? Not cool, Dutch.”

Dutch grins and rolls his eyes. “Like we didn't _all_ earn some snuggle time, here.”

“Hey, yeah!” Texas says from his perch on Mutt’s hood. “Burner cuddle pile, let's go!”

“I'm in,” Julie says, closing the passenger door behind her. “Mike?”

Mike grins and shrugs. “Why not?”

Normally he's got too much energy fizzing under his skin to lie around for very long, even with his favorite people, but right now he's loose-limbed and wobbly and not moving for a while sounds pretty good. They climb back onto Mutt and pile together, the hood just big enough if they arrange themselves carefully. Mike and Chuck drape themselves over Dutch with Texas behind Mike and Julie lounging on Texas, and everyone just relaxes and breathes.

Mike holds Chuck, and everyone holds Mike, and Mike can't stop smiling. For this little space of time, he can let these four people around him be his entire world. They're more important than anything to him, always, and they're all safe and right here with him.

“You guys know I love you, right?” he says softly.

“Yup,” Texas says. “We know, Tiny.”

“Think you've mentioned it before,” Dutch agrees, smiling, “but y’know, it bears repeating.”

Mike leans up on an elbow to look around at all of them, ignoring Chuck’s mumbled noise of protest at the movement. “I love you,” he says, “so much. You guys are amazing. I'd be lucky to have any of you; I dunno what I did to deserve _all_ of you.”

“I mean,” Dutch says, “aside from savin’ the city a bunch of times, I dunno either. Guess you're just that cute.”

Without looking, Chuck puts up a hand to pat at Mike’s face until he finds his mouth, and covers it. “Stoppit,” he mutters. “You're being too sweet and earnest again.”

“He can't help it,” Texas says, “he's just made that way. And hey, back atcha, dude.”

“Yeah,” Julie says quietly. “We love you too, Mike.”

“Yeah,” Dutch says.

Chuck makes a noise that was probably intended to be “Yeah,” before it got half-swallowed and most of the sound went missing. Mike smiles and drops a kiss on his hair.

For a moment, a peaceful silence settles. Then Mike says thoughtfully, “Wow, Mutt really needs a wash now.”

There's a chorus of groans.

“Mikey, if you don't shut up, lie down and cuddle me, I will make you regret it.”

Mike closes his mouth, lies down and snuggles properly, grinning a little. Time enough to do everything that needs doing later, time enough to work and fight and defend. Right now they've got the luxury of a still moment to hold each other. He closes his eyes, pulls Chuck close, and enjoys it.


End file.
